


untold riches

by AstronautSquid



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Rimming, Treasure Hunting, alternate title: XXX marks the spot, really silly foreplay, sappy husbands in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 20:05:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15736443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstronautSquid/pseuds/AstronautSquid
Summary: Thomas looks for treasure.---“Next,” he went on, “I must pass through the valley between two hills.”“Which way?”“South,” Thomas said, and his fingertips made their careful way between James' pectorals, down and down.





	untold riches

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say, with the recent lack of new Flintham fic I just needed to write something saccharine to cheer myself up.
> 
> Enjoy two old married husbands having extremely silly and loving sex.

James had always been an early riser in London; natural, for a man leading a navy life.

In Georgia, he veered wildly between his old habits, and sleeping in until the sun was high in the morning sky, as though he were sleeping off ten years of exhaustion, day by day.

Thomas often took those late mornings as an opportunity to observe his husband peaceful and calm, and sometimes to wake him in as indulgent a manner as he could.

Today was one such morning.

James huffed softly into his pillow, not moving where he lay on his side.

“What are you doing?”

A throat thick with sleep still, and maybe a little raw from the previous night. Thomas smiled and kept the tips of his pointer and middle fingers walking up and down along a freckled upper arm.

“Just looking,” he said.

James rubbed his cheek against the pillow but didn't move to dissuade Thomas.

“Looking at what?”

“Looking _for,”_ Thomas corrected patiently and saw James raise a sleepy brow without opening his eyes. Thomas took this as his cue to clarify, “Looking for treasure.”

Now a hazy green eye did crack open, and it peered back up at Thomas.

Thomas shrugged. “Doesn't every proper pirate have buried treasure?”

James looked at him for a long moment. Thomas waited, knowing that there were days when mentions of his pirate days brought on a less than amorous mood. But then, with a sigh, James closed his eyes again and relaxed into the caress.

“What makes you think you'll find it?”

“Oh, I've been very reliably led here by a map.” Thomas drummed his fingertips along James' shoulders, light as rain drops on summer dust, to indicate the freckles covering every inch. James huffed and twisted and smiled.

“But if you were wondering...” Thomas walked his fingertips back to James' arm. “I know that I have a good chance of finding it, because the moon is in the right phase.”

He lightly traced the faded crescent inked into the skin of James' arm.

“How lucky you are,” James remarked indulgently. “To find it just as it is today.”

Thomas nodded to himself, very seriously. “Of course that is only the start of the path.”

“Of course. Where must you go next?”

With a light tug Thomas encouraged James to turn onto his back, which James did with only the smallest amount of artful reluctance. His fingertips traipsed along James' collarbone.

“I must follow to a small hollow,” he narrated his progress and grinned when James twisted under the tickle of the touch. Thomas stopped with his fingers resting in the dip at the base of James' throat, keeping his touch very light. A tender spot.

“Next,” Thomas went on, “I must pass through the valley between two hills.”

“Which way?”

“South,” Thomas said and made his careful way between James' pectorals, down and down. He went slowly, took note of the stately rise and fall of his lover's chest. His breath had quickened, just a little.

Thomas leant down to blow a warm breath on one of James' nipples, and James let out a surprised “oh” and arched into the sensation.

“There's always an eastern wind blowing across the hills,” Thomas said and repeated the action on the other side.

The chest beneath his fingertips shook with suppressed laughter. Thomas grinned, and then smoothed his features into studious calm again as he sat back.

“Next come the rolling plains,” he announced and walked his fingers across James' stomach.

“Mind the deep well in the middle,” James cautioned and shifted upwards to indicate his navel. Thomas circumnavigated it with great focus.

The tips of Thomas' fingers sank more easily into the give of James' belly below his navel. He had grown thicker all around during their years apart, muscle and fat both, had softened once they had settled together, but above all Thomas adored the addition to James' stomach.

He wanted to rub his cheek over it, the way he loved to do after sucking James off, to rest and feel its frantic in-and-out-and-in slow. Not now, though.

He had a mission.

“Careful through the tall grass,” Thomas narrated his ambling progress and paused to stroke idly at the fine hair on James' belly.

James, ticklish and indignant both, squirmed with laughter.

“An earthquake!” Thomas exclaimed and flattened his hand, as though his fingers were throwing themselves to the ground for safety.

“You are unbelievable,” James wheezed and wiped a hand across his face. Thomas flashed him a brief grin and turned his attention to righting his fingers again.

“Now that the danger has passed... Through the thicket.” He followed lower to where red hair grew in greater and curlier abundance. Thomas' fingers stopped in their tracks just when they were about to chance upon James' cock, which lay half-hard against his belly. “Oh, what to do when I reach the fallen tree trunk? There was some trick to it, if only I could remember...”

“Maybe you should try to raise it so it's out of the way,” James suggested helpfully and pushed his hips up towards Thomas' hand. Thomas moved with him, fingers stepping around James' cock neatly as it lolled sideways.

“Ah!” he exclaimed. “No, I remember now, and you're quite wrong. I have to simply walk over it to cross the thicket.”

Thomas made a great fuss of stepping over the swollen head onto the shaft. He walked his fingers with the lightest of touches along its hardening length, not dwelling for even a moment to caress or stimulate, which James protested vehemently.

“Hush,” Thomas said once his fingers had stepped aside at the base and safely reached the vulnerable spot where hip joint thigh, off to one side. James' cock lay hard and neglected. “Now comes the most difficult part.”

James huffed. “Is it how to make a stream gush forth, because in that case—“

“A stream?” Thomas raised his brows. “You mean to tell me I should find a way to see some sort of well pour its frothy white—“

“If anything at all is frothing, I'd ask you to run for Doctor Houndsmith.”

“Or even a powerful spray of—“

“ _Spray?”_

Thomas pulled a face. “Well, there's only so many ways to describe—“

“It does not fucking _spray,_ my heart, and if it ever does, I don't know if even Houndsmith could still help me.”

But despite his stern words James could not hide the laughter pushing at the corners of his mouth and he sighed long and deep to calm himself before reclining again.

“But you mustn't get distracted,” he said. “Treasure.”

Thomas took a moment longer to contain his mirth, but then he cleared his throat very seriously and placed his adventurous fingers back on James' hip.

“Now comes the most difficult part,” he said. James raised a brow. “You have to get the earth itself to turn for you.”

“Do you indeed.”

“Mhm.”

James should not have bothered looking so smug, because Thomas knew all of his most ticklish spots. A pointed jab to that particular place below his ribs turned James into a gasping mess, curling up on his side instinctively.

Thomas had never been much of a fighter, though he had made James teach him. He hadn't learnt more than how to conduct oneself in a mean brawl and hadn't used it since escaping Savannah, but he still knew where the best handholds were, where to grasp to move an opponent.

This was the knowledge that had stayed with him, because it had been the most useful, and because James still demonstrated its masterful use every once in a while, though in a much more pleasurable context. Thomas, despite his natural disinclination to use violence, was a quick study.

With not much effort at all Thomas prodded James the rest of the way onto his front.

His fingers alighted, easy and triumphant, on James' arse.

“Finally,” he said. “This is the place. And now...” Thomas made his fingers do a little turn about the round expanse of James' buttocks. “The treasure must be buried somewhere amongst these moon-lit hills. The sickle moon at the start was a clue, you see.”

“Sun's up,” James voiced his muffled protest from the pillow.

“Ah, but these look like they've known naught but Luna's gentle gaze all their life.”

And Thomas administered an affectionate pat to James' pale arse, which jiggled delightfully. Keeping his eyes on what he could see of his husband's face, Thomas began rubbing small, firm circles into the dip at the top of James' cheeks. James gave a small grunt and shifted against the mattress. Thomas laughed and bent to press a kiss where his thumb had been.

“Now,” he said. “Time to start looking in earnest.”

He made a show of walking his fingers up and down along James' buttocks, making noises to demonstrate the effort it took to jump across the cleft between, and back again.

“Somewhere around here... Maybe... No—no, that doesn't seem right at all, that won't do.”

Thomas let his fingers slip lower, just dipping between James' cheeks, which he was rewarded for with a hopeful grunt. He did not pause, however, but slid further down to fondle James' balls, heavy and full in the cradle of his thighs.

“Hm,” he made. His fingers rubbed pensively, which James requited with soft keening. Thomas knew how he loved having his balls played with, and Thomas was teasing just enough to be unsatisfying. “I think climbing past these boulders would only lead me back where I came from, though of course it's hard to tell with the world all upside down like this.”

“Head back the other way then,” James offered in a reedy voice. Thomas took his sweet time about it, and James made his impatience known by clenching and unclenching his buttocks. Thomas let his fingers stumble back and forth a little, commenting on the frequency of earthquakes today, and delighted in James' frustrated groan at his delay.

“The other way,” Thomas repeated when his fingertips had regained their footing. “Up and up and up...”

“ _Too far,”_ James huffed when Thomas was halfway up his lower back.

“Oops,” Thomas said and turned around again. He retraced his path until his fingertips were just sinking into the cleft of James' arse, and paused.

“Gotten lost?” James asked and tried to press himself back against Thomas' hand. “You're doing an awful lot of not much at all.”

Thomas carefully slipped a finger between James' cheeks, questing into the soft heat. James exhaled noisily.

“I just needed to think,” Thomas said. “Wouldn't want to be searching in the wrong place.”

He spent a little while simply rubbing the pad of a finger along the length of James' cleft, brushing only lightly in passing over his hole.

“I am not quite decided yet,” Thomas mused.

“I think you need to dig a little deeper,” James offered, but his voice was decidedly unsteady now. He had grown increasingly impatient with Thomas' teasing, pushing back into the touch.

“But I'm not sure it's the right spot yet...”

“ _Then why don't you start digging and find out?”_

If the words sounded harsh it was only because Thomas had been pushing him quite long enough, and he knew that James meant no ill by it. If anything, Thomas loved to hear that hair-fine edge of aggression to James' desire, to know that he was wanted with tooth and nail.

Suddenly Thomas himself felt desperate to give James what he wanted.

With his free hand Thomas fumbled blindly for the bedside drawer, and unstoppered the vial of oil with his teeth.

“Up,” he said under his breath and tapped James' hips to make him raise them. He noted how hard James was, drooling slick into the blankets, and carefully positioned a pillow under James' pelvis to have better access to his arse.

One of James' greatest delights was getting fingered. Thomas had had to tickle it out of him, carefully, over weeks. There had been a time when James had still struggled with that side of himself, with succumbing to the soft, passive indulgence of being lazily fucked with a couple of fingers. Though Thomas wasn't his first male bedfellow, he had never learned to take this sort of slow pleasure without getting restless, still haunted by what society had told him things should be between men, even the illicit ones. These days, though, he was eager as a hound for the hunt, and indulgent as a cat in the afternoon sun.

Thomas kept no account of the time, but he knew that he had been playing with James' hole for a good long while, for the sun slanted at a steeper angle through the curtains than before. He had also grown desperately hard himself, and was hard pressed not to lay a hand on his own erection.

James seemed to pick up on the smallest changes in his thoughts, as he was wont to do now they had grown comfortable with each other again, and shifted.

“Any luck?”

A desperate question, panted against the sleep-rumpled pillow. Thomas realised that he had quite forgotten to continue their little game, occupied as he had been with the sheer pleasure of pleasing his beloved.

“Mh.” Thomas shifted until he was on his belly, removing his fingers from James' arse to do so, and was admonished with a disgruntled huff. Unperturbed, he used his oiled hand to pull James' cheek aside. “Nearly, I think. I feel like I'm so close I can nearly taste it, love.”

And if there was one thing James liked as much as Thomas' fingers up his arse, it was his tongue.

With his mouth now fully employed elsewise, Thomas set aside the play-acting and devoted all thought to his new task.

Thomas fitted two slick fingers back into the goings-on when he noticed James was getting close. He could tell from the heaving of the magnificent body beneath him, from the way James' moans devolved into muffled groans and high keening. And it was enough; between Thomas' hungry mouth and precise, firm fingers, and James' own rutting between lover and sheets, it took only a few more moments before James tensed. He threw out an arm to hold Thomas' head in place as he arched up, and when Thomas reached below to encircle James' cock he found it twitching and spilling already.

Because James loved being worked all the way through his orgasm, Thomas kept the fingers in his arse but moved his mouth further below to take his balls into his mouth. James whined something pitiful while Thomas hummed to himself, pleased with every time he could feel them contract in his mouth, and the resulting gushes of seed into the hand around James' cock.

With a loud groan James collapsed entirely down onto his front, briefly trapping Thomas' hand.

Thomas, however, had no time to care overmuch; he snatched his hand from beneath James' hips and put it desperately onto himself, pulling on his cock frantically. It was noisy, the sound of his hand working himself, wet with James' seed. James turned his head to watch with heavy-lidded eyes across his shoulder. He gave a deep, content sigh.

“Come on,” he said quietly, voice raw. “You should mark the spot for later, love.”

James reached back with one hand and pulled one cheek aside, presenting Thomas with the sight of what he had wrought: wet, red flesh, slick with oil and spit, still giving the occasional slow twitch. It hit Thomas like a punch to the gut, and he curled forward as he shuddered through his orgasm. Warm streaks fell across James' used, adored skin.

James' panting had subsided into slow, intent breathing when Thomas tilted bonelessly forward to lie half on his lover, so heavy he felt he might never get up again. A clumsy hand moved to alight on Thomas' head, sliding into his sweat-dark hair and rubbing gentle circles into his scalp. Thomas moaned gratefully at the attention.

When eventually Thomas' heartbeat stopped rattling in him like stones in a drum, he turned his weary head to kiss James' shoulder. Then he did it again, because he could. James hummed and shifted to bring his face closer, but Thomas pulled away when he leant in for a kiss.

“Not after...” Thomas trailed off and reluctantly rose from the bed. He heard James sigh but met no protest.

There was a pitcher on the table underneath the window, and Thomas rinsed his mouth with a big gulp. He unlatched the window and leant outside to spit out the water. When he turned back to the bed, wiping his mouth, he halted.

James was watching him with adoring eyes, his cheek pillowed on his forearm. He was the very picture of delicious debauchery: covered in a fine sheen of sweat, hair wild, lips bitten red, and _God,_ the sight between his spread legs, one thigh comfortably pulled up to the side and exposing how thoroughly _used_ he was, liberally marked with the remains of Thomas' climax.

Thomas had to turn away and fuss with the pitcher to compose himself before he returned to bed, wet cloth in hand. James pushed himself up eager for a kiss, languid and sweet.

“Not that much gold unearthed, have you,” he remarked with tender mocking, and Thomas laughed under his breath. “And after all that digging too.”

“Well.” Thomas' looked aside, letting his eyes rest on the feast before him, and paused. “Since I've spent so much time on that hole, there should be _some_ purpose to it. Here...” With two fingers of his free hand he scooped up some of the mess he had left on James' skin and worked them carefully into James' arse. James gasped and twitched around him. “What with all this seed lying around, at least now I can say I have planted something, and who knows what will come of it.”

James buried his face in the pillow with a disbelieving groan. “I swear to God, Thomas, if I wake up tomorrow and find that you've stuck a flower up my arse just to tell me you grew something...”

But even he could not keep playing at being cross while speaking these words, and he dissolved into laughter with Thomas, and held still to allow Thomas to wipe him clean.

As Thomas went about his task, he let his eyes wander again, and they alighted on James' face. The window pane, now open, reflected sunlight onto his lover, and James' disorderly hair was lit like a wreath of soft flame around his face.

“Oh,” Thomas said and dropped the cloth.

James tilted a brow. “Oh?”

“What a _fool_ I've been, James!”

“What, to be playing at treasure hunting as a preamble to eating my ar—“

“I was looking in the wrong place!”

James blinked. “Were you now?”

“Definitely.” Thomas slid a hand into James' hair and guided his lover back down onto the bed with him. “I was looking at the wrong end of the path. But this whole time...” He twined his fingers more tighty into light-drenched tresses, which drew a rumbling moan from James' chest. “This abundance of spun gold was right here all along, in front of my very eyes this whole time.”

“All yours for the taking,” James said and shifted closer.

“Hm, all mine indeed.”

They kissed again, slow and savouring. Thomas imagined that he could taste the light in James' mouth, in the soft recesses beneath his tongue and in the spaces between his slightly crooked bottom teeth. He slid an arm around James' waist and trailed lazy fingertips through the remaining damp at the small of his back, water from the cloth and fresh sweat.

James pulled away and took Thomas' chin in hand.

“So,” he said. “What are you going to do with all your newfound riches?”

Thomas considered this a moment.

“I might find myself something pretty to spoil rotten and keep my bed warm,” he said, voice ringing with earnesty. James guffawed, and Thomas had to duck his head to avoid their brows colliding.

“Seen anything you'd like, then?” James said.

“Oh, I've seen _plenty_ I like.”

A brash hand squeezed where James' flesh was the most bountiful, and Thomas was rewarded with a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

“Nothing you could pay for in gold, though,” James said. “You're lucky I'm looking for something handsome myself, for I'm not in need of your treasure.”

“No?”

“No.” James inhaled, and with that great, beautiful arch of his chest he brought up both hands and cupped the sides of Thomas' head in them. His fingers burrowed possessively into blond locks, nails scraping gently over Thomas' scalp. “I am lucky to have been blessed with untold riches of my own.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://squid-inspiration.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Comments sustain me in these troubled times.


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